


Prompt: 2 a.m.

by xlivvielockex



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlivvielockex/pseuds/xlivvielockex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please read collection description. </p><p>Bruce gets a late night visitor, Cat.  OlderTeen!Bruce/Selina</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt: 2 a.m.

Selina never used the door and if asked, she would say she had no idea this place even had a front door. 

(Which was a total lie since she knew every inch of this place, every entry and exit. Learned it her first day here). 

It was so much more fun to throw pebbles at windows or claw at doors like an errant housecat wanting to come in from the cold. 

(But really she was a Rum Tum Tugger, always on the wrong side of every door). 

She’d been doing it for years and the kid didn’t seem to mind. Even Alfred laid off after the first two years of it. 

(Though Bruce never heard the end of it: “Why can’t she come through the front door like a proper young lady?”)

Tonight she was perched on a balcony railing. A few pebbles later and the balcony door opened, a bleary eyed Bruce, clad in deep blue (or maybe black?) silk pajamas, rubbing at his face.

“How did you get up here?”

“Magic.” She replied with a shrug as she jumped down to the balcony. 

(But really she had climbed up the ivy choked lattice to get to Bruce’s room but a girl has to keep a bit of mystery to her.) 

She moved past him and into his room, a place she had been a hundred times before. Tonight was different though. It could have been the air or the fact that she five finger discounted her biggest score yet.

(Or it could be that at eighteen, a girl’s mind turns to different things than burgulary.)

Hearing him padding in behind her, she turned, leaning slightly against a chair. “How’s that fancy school of yours?”

Bruce shrugged. The older he got, the less words he used. 

(She could always pull him out of these funks before. Either by throwing a dinner roll at him or telling him a joke so filthy it would make a whore blush.)

“That good, huh?” She paused, rolling her eyes and looking away. “So I need a place to lay low…”

“You can stay here.” He interrupted, sounding way too eager. 

(Part of her is yelling that this is a bad idea. A really bad idea but her heart and groin tells her brain to shut up and stick to what its best at.)

“Aww, thanks, kid. Same room as always?” She was already heading towards the door, shifting her backpack higher up on her shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Bruce hesitated. He thought he was a good actor but he wasn’t that good. She could tell there was something else he wanted. “Hey, Cat?”

(This is the part where the other shoe always drops. She’s been ready for it for a while but it did seem different with him.)

Turning, she shifted her weight to one hip, giving him a look, “Yes?”

Bruce was shifting from foot to foot, not looking at her.

(That ground must have been awfully interesting.)

Even though he had sprouted up inches above her during his last growth spurt, he still seemed like the short little twerp she met all those years ago. 

“You know, I am kind of tired. So maybe this could wait until morning?”

(Oh, that did it. His head snapped up so quick the sound barrier broke.)

“No. I want to ask you now. So…so there is this dance and why I don’t think we would be the best partners, you are the only girl that I know, so I was hoping that you might see fit to…”

Now it was her turn to cut him off, her hand raised. “Dance, fancy school, got it. I’ll be there.”

(She swore the room exploded into light at the brilliance of his smile. It was making her wince.)

“That’s great. Alfred can get you a nice dress. Not that you don’t have nice dresses but from a practical standpoint, so that we match.”

(They both knew practicality had nothing to do with it. She’d let him win this round.)

“Sure, it’ll give me something to do tomorrow. Go shopping. Night, kid.” She said as she walked out, heading for her usual room.

(She would deny it later but there was just the smallest spring in her step as she headed down the hall.)


End file.
